


Another Farewell

by reversatility



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8360662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversatility/pseuds/reversatility
Summary: “You told me to look inward to figure out what I want to do. You told me to dive.”  Kara dives.





	

**Author's Note:**

> We got two lovely Supercat farewells in 2x02, but I’d love to imagine one more …

The sunsets from this balcony really are gorgeous, and right now the sky is an expanse of orange and amber only just beginning to be tempered by the rising blue of night. Cat stands straight and still, a glass of her best whiskey in one hand, taking in the colors and the evening breeze like she’s done a thousand times, like this isn’t, _finally_ – after triple-checking the project timelines six months out with every department head – the last time she’ll be enjoying this view before she embarks for new shores. And if she’s completely honest with herself – which seems to happen with perturbing frequency lately – she’s hoping that Supergirl will see her as she patrols the city ( _if_ she patrols the city, she corrects herself; it’s not like Supergirl ever revealed her routines) and drop in for another, last visit. Not that their previous exchange hadn’t been a fitting goodbye, but Cat isn’t averse to another, perhaps longer farewell; after all, how often did anyone – even Cat Grant – get to form a mutual admiration society with a superhero, and an alien at that?

She’s slightly startled by the sound of footsteps behind her in the office; the bullpen had emptied enthusiastically after she’d given them all unprecedented permission to leave at 5 today (she must be getting soft, letting their possibly last memory of her as CatCo chief be one of her being _nice_ ). Only one person would have the assurance to enter Cat’s domain unannounced like this though. Cat turns slightly, takes in her former assistant’s powder blue button-down and navy pants – which, despite their off-the-rack origins, manage to hug her hips without looking tacky – and eyes that seem to sparkle more than usual behind her glasses as she makes her way to Cat before stopping a few feet short.

“Kara.”

One eyebrow raised, she lets a small note of irritation curl around the name as if she’s being disturbed by some inconsequential employee.

“Shouldn’t you be out somewhere proving that Snapper Carr was wrong about you and I was right?”

But there’s no real rancor in her tone, and Kara sees through the comment for what it is, shaking her head with a smile.

“I was hoping I’d find you here, Ms. Grant,” Kara says with a note of intensity that makes Cat search the young woman’s face for a hint of why she’s come. 

Kara lowers her head, uncharacteristically unreadable, and Cat presses her lips together to hold back an impatient “Spit it out” or worse. Instead she watches Kara fold her hands into fists and then release them again. When she looks back up and speaks, her words ring clear and there’s no stutter, no hesitation.

“Ms. Grant, you told me to accept who I am. And I do.”

Kara takes a step towards her.

“The hardest thing isn’t accepting myself. It’s showing other people – people I care about – who I really am. And taking a chance on whether they’ll accept me.”

With that, Kara lifts a hand to her glasses and takes them off. Her eyes, as blue than ever, are free of trepidation, not like the last time Kara performed the same action almost on this very spot. But then, that was under duress, when Cat was hell-bent on triumphantly extracting a confession. It had all ended up leading to that ridiculous sleight of hand in her office the next day, which had been momentarily confusing and then supremely irritating once she deduced that it was some kind of elaborate extraterrestrial technology ruse. 

She wants to say something that both acknowledges the significance of this moment and expresses regret for that previous occasion, but before she can, Kara asks, 

“Can we go inside?” 

“Of course.”

She gestures them to the couch, Cat depositing her tumbler and Kara her glasses onto the coffee table before they both sit down. Now might seem like the time for Cat to make a response, but she senses that Kara isn’t done, and she’s right. Cat scans the desks outside the office for a moment (as before, no one else is here) and turns her head back to her companion. Kara’s hands have moved to her blouse and she undoes the top button, then another two in quick succession before pulling the upper half of the shirt open, revealing that unmistakable deep metal blue and the red and yellow embellishment upon it. 

_Ah, there it is then._

Their gazes meet as Kara says with a quiet solemnity that Cat has never heard from her, 

“This is the crest of the House of El.” 

She clarifies, although she doesn’t need to, “My family house on Krypton.” 

And then Kara takes Cat’s right hand and places it over the crest. The intimacy of the gesture suffuses her with a warmth far surpassing that of the whiskey earlier.

Cat’s fingers curl almost automatically, and through the material of the suit, she feels the solidity of Supergirl’s body ( _Kara’s body_ ), a body of unimaginable strength. She has watched this body soar across sky and earth, has even felt it against her own – once, it was poisoned with cruel menace, but Cat chooses to better remember an embrace of deep emotional solidarity as the apocalypse seemed nigh, and another just the other day, when the respectful distance between them fell away and she understood that for all of Kara’s “Ms. Grants,” they were more equals than she had ever thought possible. 

“When people see this, they see a hero,” Kara says, and there’s a tremor of emotion in her voice now. 

“But to me, this means family. It means belonging.

“I’ve come to work at CatCo for two years now. I feel like I belong here because there are people who I care about, who care about me.” 

“James.” The word escapes her before she can stop herself, and Cat immediately regrets that the first thing she has uttered for minutes is the name of Kara’s recent lovelorn longings.

“James,” Kara agrees with a small nod and smile. 

“And Winn.”

Kara tightens her grip on Cat’s hand just a touch and tugs it even closer to herself.

“But most of all, you, Cat.”

Her heartbeat skips at that, and there’s a small voice inside her head ordering her to shake free of this trance, to take back her hand and her heart, reclaim control with a cutting one-liner about excessive sentiment and oversharing in the contemporary age. But Kara’s eyes, lit with emotion, hold hers, and any notions of breaking their connection dissipate as Kara goes on. 

“You told me to look inward to figure out what I want to do. You told me to dive.”

And here, finally, Kara seems to waver ever so slightly as she inhales, exhales, inhales again.  


The pause is long enough that Cat could graciously thank Kara for finally confirming the open secret between them, for trusting her with a piece of information that only a select few on the planet will ever know. As confessions go, it’s already monumental.

But Cat says nothing, because the adrenalin coursing her veins and the intensity that continues to mark every inch of Kara’s face tell her that it shouldn’t end here. 

Her hand is still under Kara’s, pressed over the undeniable emblem of Kara’s heroic identity. But then Kara releases her and Cat lets her hand fall back to her lap, wondering for a split second if she was wrong about there being more to this conversation before Kara places her palms around Cat’s cheeks and pulls her close. Eyelids fluttering shut, Cat’s fingers find Kara’s head, tangling in her hair as their lips and tongues meet. _How can Kara be so strong, so gentle?_ Cat thinks before she’s not thinking much coherently at all.

Their breaths become one, their whimpers and moans a soft duet. 

It is Kara who draws back slightly after long, long moments of this wondrous bliss. 

“What are you thinking?” Kara asks, and Cat realizes that she hasn’t actually _said_ anything about all that Kara has revealed, even if actions sometimes speak louder than words. 

She’s thinking that she didn’t realize just how much she wanted this, wanted Kara until now. 

She’s thinking that however beautiful the sunsets she’s seen here and in cities all around the world, their magnificence pales in comparison to the woman before her – “strong,” “brave,” and “kind,” she once described her as, as if there are words that could hope to capture everything that Kara is.

She’s thinking that getting to know Kara-as-Kara and Kara-as-Supergirl are both profound commitments to make, but God help her, she won’t be able to stop herself from diving in deeper than she’s ever dived in the domain of love (because yes, she understands that this is _love_ , even if neither of them has said as much).

But she’s still Cat Grant; she won’t give it all away just yet. 

So she replies huskily, “I’m thinking that when you put my words of wisdom together with that extraordinary heart of yours, you can’t go wrong.”

 _And hopefully, neither can I_ , Cat adds to herself, smiling at the almost goofily wide grin that graces Kara’s face before they bring their lips together again.


End file.
